


The True Face of Loyalty

by orphan_account



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-09-27 08:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Shay isn't really loyal to the Templar Order or their cause.Haytham's alright with that, and keeps those secrets to himself, because he knows that Shay's a loyal dog as long as he lives.





	The True Face of Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> how tag work please, does this even count as a character study
> 
> death wont do this ship apart and do you fucking mean to tell me that there are only 2 pages for this god-tier ship jfc

Shay is mouthy, sure. He has a sarcastic streak that's an ocean wide and enough snark to tire out the most patient of men. He's not particularly popular even if he is capable of being amicable, but mostly, he's just such a pain in the _arse_.

But he follows orders, if not exactly as instructed. He brings results. Kills assassins flawlessly. His contributions alone rival what Haytham has done for the Colonial Rite, and he's not quite sure whether or not that's something to worry about, but seeing as how he has yet to be undermined yet, he simply keeps a close eye on him through mutual contacts. (Not Gist; the frontiersman is almost more loyal to Shay than the Order, and he would tell Shay anything that Haytham would tell him.)

He's a scarce man to find, however. He's either out at sea, securing routes or trading cannonballs with French ships, or roaming around Fort Arsenal. He's bound to have made countless coin from his naval exploits, and yet last Haytham checked the Irishman didn't try to flaunt his wealth with a grand estate or a bigger ship, instead hanging on to his humble abode (or at least humbler than what most Templars are used to) and his sloop. His actions make him almost more like a vigilante than a Templar, just a step too close to his Assassin roots, and he never has an interest in governing or politics, or at least politics in polite company; Haytham is more than well-aware of his opinions about high society's treatment of the common man.

It's why he's proud of his accent and has a supposed allergy towards fine clothing and a wig, most likely.

On this evening, he finds him at the bow of the Morrigan, looking out towards sheets of ice. They're ever closer towards their goal, sailing in these northern waters. Shay grumbles under his breath about the biting chill but he looks completely in his element, a figure in his setting fit for a renaissance painting.

No drinks. No tobacco. One would expect a man like Shay to have those sorts of vices, but the most he indulges in are women, and even then Haytham doesn’t know if he ever really was interested in women, despite overhearing his commentary on fine women around the world with Christopher Gist at times.

“Taking a break, Shay?” When has Haytham been so familiar around a fellow brother? Sure, there’s Charles, but Shay is a wild card brought in by the late soft-hearted Monroe just a handful of years ago, obedient to him and committed to the cause but never submissive.

Shay scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Gist would’ve gone to blows with me otherwise.”

Haytham doesn’t chuckle, but even he can’t resist a slight upturn on the corners of his mouth, he and stares out into the cold and barren seascape with Shay. What is it that the other finds in them? What beauty does he see?

“It’s the end of your quest,” Haytham starts. Shay doesn’t give a response, or at least an audible one, but his face hardens. It’s remarkably easy to read the man sometimes.

Morrigan’s captain rubs the ring on his finger, and it suddenly strikes Haytham how much Shay does that. It’s not a nervous tick, surely. His mind rewinds to any and all memories he has with Shay; it’s after that he’s become a fully realized Templar that his certain quirk arose. He thought nothing of it then; it’s normal for newer members to be fascinated or struck with a sense of wonderment and awe at their new position, fixating upon the physical proof of such.

However, with Shay, it’s always been much more than that, has it not.

That was Monro’s ring, the one he inherited and made his.

Monro. George Monro.

The way Shay’s eyes shine with something in between light and dark as he speaks of him, the way his voice is laced with a heavy weight as he speaks fondly of the late colonel. How he truly caresses the ring, how he falls into a rare silence whenever his name is brought up.

It’s more than just reverance or respect.

Haytham, then, knows that there is nothing to fear about their newest initiate’s guaranteed confrontation with his old brother-in-arms.


End file.
